Ever since we switched directors over to car allowances, there’s an increasing variety of metalware at the posh end of the car park. Where once there was a line-up of darkly coloured BMWs, there’s now a feast of automotive indulgence.
Nick, our finance director, has splashed out on a sandy-coloured Range Rover – odd that the shortest man should have the biggest car, but there you go.
The managing director seems quite happy with his Jag, although I see he’s downsized now that it’s coming out of his own pocket.
Steph in sales is the real head-turner in the mornings, as she zips around in her metallic orange, two-seater Nissan 350Z. “Suits my lifestyle,” she said. Mind you, perhaps the fact that there’s only room for one boyfriend at a time is no bad thing.
Practical Pete from purchasing did a good deal, he tells me, on an ex-demonstration Audi – “plenty of room for the brood, and what point is there in buying new?” Strange. Is that the same Pete who always said buying second-hand company cars was “too much hassle”?
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Of course, the lady wife and I discussed at length what we should do. Since the arrival of our ‘boys’ (the Rhodesian Ridgebacks) our needs have changed a little, but we’re delighted with our Octavia Estate – and Skoda is such good value.
If only Nick, as he looks down at me from his Range Rover, or Steph, as she nips past me on the by-pass, could see the world as I do.
